Raising the Northern Grand Duchy as a Max-Level All-Master

The Grand Witch of the Snowfield (2)

I need to assess the battlefield…

After extinguishing the immediate danger, I stood up, carrying Arina in my arms like a princess.

Leaving her here didn’t seem right, so I wandered the factory grounds, holding her as I surveyed the area.

“Assistant Director Teo! Sir Eote! Sir Rosie! Sir Carrot!”

The first thing I did was return to the factory from which I’d fled.

The interior was a wasteland, devoid of any standing figures, but I let out a sigh of relief.

Threat level… zero.

The corpses of the last two druids who had fought alongside Nuchka lay in plain sight, eliminating my main concern.

I also checked the employees who were scattered around the factory.

They’re all alive.

To my immense relief, everyone inside was unconscious but still breathing.

The magical armor and artifacts I’d provided had done their job well.

Though I wanted to gather everyone and administer first aid, I clenched my eyes shut against the urge and exited the factory.

The outer grounds, where Arina had rampaged, were equally important.

Step. Step. Step.

Still cradling Arina, I moved toward the other parts of the facility.

“Phew…”

The scene at the rear entrance was even more devastating than inside the factory.

Numerous knights and Frost Knights lay unconscious, unable to fight.

Whether it was thanks to Arina’s intervention or the magical armor they wore, many were still alive.

“Incredible.”

Beyond that, there was no mercy.

The scene was an apocalyptic frostscape.

The bodies of orcs and druids were scattered about, frozen solid, with no chance of survival.

Each corpse had been shredded into tiny pieces, frozen mid-shatter by Arina’s sword aura.

“Undead?”

The reason for her ferocious attacks became evident.

Fragments of frozen corpses scattered across the field bore unmistakable signs of being undead.

“Is that Hunster?”

Among the frozen remains were two particularly massive chunks of ice.

One was undoubtedly the corpse of Orc Lord Hunster.

“A necromancer?”

The other chunk was likely the body of the dark mage who had summoned the undead.

“In any case… we won.”

After piecing together the situation, I sat down on the ground, still holding Arina.

What in the world just happened here…?

Now that I had a moment to breathe, my thoughts naturally turned to Arina.

She was still unconscious, her body limp in my arms.

There was no sign she was faking it.

Who is the Grand Witch of the Snowfield, really?

The revelation that Mary was actually Arina had come as a shock, but I quickly accepted it.

What bothered me more was the question gnawing at my mind.

Was Arina the Grand Witch of the Snowfield?

The connection between the Arina of this world and the in-game Grand Witch was unsettlingly strong.

The Grand Witch of the Snowfield. The one responsible for dragging me to this world from my comfortable life in South Korea… a prime suspect.

[…Please. Save us.]

 [Legendary Creator.]

 [Legendary Alchemist.]

 [Legendary Magical Engineer.]

 [Legendary Merchant.]

 [Save the North… Save the North!]

The faint voices I had heard just before I passed out at my computer… and the ones that greeted me when I woke up as Arad.

I had suspected for a while that the owner of that voice might have been the Grand Witch of the Snowfield.

Let’s piece this together.

I laid Arina gently on the ground beside me and sank into thought.

Meanwhile, I began carving circuits into a high-grade mana stone with my hands.

In the original timeline, Arina must have barely survived the Empire’s schemes.

Thanks to the sacrifices of knights like Carrot, Rosie, Eote, and Balzac, she would have scraped by.

But she would have been severely injured. Perhaps too injured to ever wield a sword again. 

Maybe she couldn’t even walk for a long time.

My eyes shifted to her lower mana core.

Isabelle must have worked tirelessly to save her. 

She probably etched new mana circles into her heart to replace the shattered core.

In that timeline, Arina likely abandoned the sword and turned to a staff and broom, taking up magic.

The change in hair and eye color that only happens when she transforms into Mary? That could’ve been a side effect of losing her lower core and retraining in magic.

I didn’t know how Isabelle and the witches had overcome Haran’s curse in that timeline, but one thing was clear:

Arina must have desperately trained in magic, eventually becoming the Grand Witch of the Snowfield.

But why would the Arina of the original timeline never reveal that she survived?

A few possible explanations crossed my mind.

Did she choose safety over recognition?

Perhaps she stayed hidden to avoid the Empire or the dark mages.

Or maybe the North wouldn’t have believed her return after such a long absence.

“Done!”

The mana stone I was carving emitted a faint glow, signaling it was ready.

Having finished my deductions about Arina and the Grand Witch of the Snowfield, I examined the mana stone I’d been carving during my thoughts.

Reinforcements are coming.

The location I was in was a corner of the factory grounds—an obscure blind spot that allowed me to see outside without being easily spotted myself.

Time to swap it out.

I brought the completed mana stone to the necklace Arina was wearing. Carefully, I removed the cracked mana stone embedded in the necklace and replaced it with the one I had made.

There must have been a reason Arina insisted on operating as Mary so stubbornly.

The mana stone was enchanted with transformation magic and a variety of mental spells, just like the original one crafted by Isabelle.

Flash!

As the stone settled into place, it began to emit a soft glow.

Ssssst.

The light from the necklace caused Arina’s silvery-blue hair to turn pure white, resembling Mary’s.

Her eyes were closed, but I assumed they would have shifted to the familiar gray hue of Mary’s.

Her facial features also transformed into those of Mary—the woman everyone knew.

Now… let’s wake her up.

It was time to rouse Arina and see how she reacted.

Will she continue the act as Mary? Or will she address me as Arina?

The last I saw of her, she had been wavering between consciousness and unconsciousness, so I couldn’t predict how she would behave now.

I gave her shoulder a firm shake.

“Murmur, murmur…”

In the distance, about thirty soldiers and knights emerged, the reinforcements sent from the barrier.

I need to wake her up before they see us.

Why isn’t she waking up?

I felt an odd sense of déjà vu as I shook her harder.

“…”

Still, she didn’t wake.

She doesn’t seem to be pretending…

Worried, I shook her more vigorously.

Wake up, wake up.

Pinch, pinch, pinch!

Finally, I resorted to pinching her cheeks.

“Ugh… mm…?”

At last, she stirred and opened her eyes.

“…”

I silently met her now-gray eyes.

“Oh… hmm…?”